


Slices of Life

by dracoqueen22



Series: Truth in Advertising [9]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13250550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: Ficlet Collection. Tiny tales of the ups and downs and in-betweens of Starscream and Blurr's blossoming relationship during the course of the entire Truth in Advertising series.





	1. Sleeping Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAirCommand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAirCommand/gifts).



> This is a special birthday gift for a very special best friend of mine. Happy Birthday!

Try as he might, Blurr could never manage to be stealthy.

He came home late most days that he worked, sometimes long after Starscream had retired to recharge since their schedules rarely coincided. Sneaking in to join Starscream on the berth never worked. Starscream always woke, greeting Blurr with a sleepy smile and reaching out with eager arms.

Blurr hated disturbing his Seeker’s much needed rest. But not even lessons from Jazz could make Blurr’s nightly returns furtive. No matter how quiet he was, or how carefully he moved, Starscream always knew. He supposed there were some things that eons spent as a Decepticon couldn’t be unlearned.

He only once made the mistake of foregoing the berth and choosing the couch instead. They hadn’t argued recently. Starscream had fully expected Blurr to join him by a certain time. Blurr, however, knew Starscream had worked later than usual, and had been overworking as of late. He didn’t want to interrupt a recharge cycle.

The couch wasn’t terrible to sleep on. Blurr had certainly attempted to recharge in worst conditions during the war. He’d gotten accustomed to discomfort.

Blurr had just fallen into an uneasy recharge – the couch was a lot colder without a Seeker for a blanket – when he jerked into full-scale alert. His comms blared and Starscream came tearing out of the berthroom like Iacon was on fire again, his wings high and rigid.

“What do you mean he left hours ago?” Starscream snarled as his thrusters spat sparks against the floor, and his engine audibly roared. He snapped charges into the ports for his energon swords, his stride quick and purposeful.

“He’s not here!” Starscream shrieked as he made straight for the balcony, his field ready for murder and his optics a dark, baleful crimson.

Blurr had leapt off the touch, feet nearly tangling in the thin, metalmesh blanket he’d tossed over his legs. He rushed to intercept his partner, and nearly got a blade to the belly when a startled Starscream whipped toward him, optics wide and alarmed.

“Where have you been!?!”

That night, neither of them managed more than a few stolen moments of rest. It took ages for Starscream to calm, to rescind the emergency calls, for Jazz’s lecture to stop ringing in Blurr’s comm because yes, he should have known better.

Starscream held him tightly then, and even more so the next few nights after that, so tightly that his talons left gouges in Blurr’s armor. He was late to the office the next morning. No one was amused by the false alarm, Starscream especially, who felt simultaneously angry at Blurr and embarrassed at himself for overreacting.

Blurr made a promise.

He always came to the berth after that. Or informed Starscream otherwise.

Blurr kept trying to be stealthy. He had yet to succeed. He doubted he ever would.

A part of him was relieved.

There was something about coming home to a sleepy smile and open arms that made him feel warm and fuzzy. Starscream always tucked against him, nuzzled into his intake, stole a kiss or three.

Starscream sighed so sweetly as he slipped back into recharge, relaxed and trusting in Blurr’s arms. His field embraced Blurr’s like a blanket.

Put like that, Blurr supposed stealthiness was way overrated.


	2. Habits

Blurr chews on the ends of his styluses. It is simultaneously one of his most adorable and disgusting habits.

When he works on finances for the bar and has to concentrate, inevitably the stylus becomes a gnawed, useless ruin. Most of the time, Starscream doesn’t see it because Blurr usually does that kind of paperwork in his office at the bar. Today, however, he’d opted to bring it home and perch at Starscream’s desk.

Him attempting to look official is the peak of cuteness.

Starscream loiters in the doorway, watching as Blurr sighs and grumbles and gnaw-gnaw-gnaws the end of the stylus. His feet scuff against the floor. One hand raps a nonsense rhythm on the desktop. His field radiates frustration and boredom.

Starscream pushes himself off the jamb and slips into the room. “You know, if you’d let me help you, this wouldn’t take as long,” he murmurs as he drapes himself across Blurr’s back – they have a strict no-boosters rule while he’s home. He hooks his chin over Blurr’s shoulder, peering at the scrawl of calculations on the cracked screen.

“You have your own work to do,” Blurr says as the stylus scritches across the screen, denta-marks visible in the end of it.

Starscream chuckles and nuzzles the side of Blurr’s head. “But I’m done with mine and I’m lonely now,” he purrs as he slips his arms around his partner’s frame, hands splayed across Blurr’s very tempting belly.

“You’ll just have to be patient,” Blurr retorts and makes several nearly illegible calculations, numbers scrawling over the screen in crooked lines.

Starscream teases at Blurr’s abdominal vents. “That’s wrong.”

Blurr’s engine hiccups. “No, it’s no-- Oh.” He sighs as he flicks away the last addition and corrects the basic error. “I’m a racer not a mathematician. Cut me some slack.”

Starscream snorts. “It’s basic arithmetic.”

“Yeah, well, you’re distracting me.” Blurr squirms and the stylus makes an illiterate squiggle.

Starscream finds and nibbles on Blurr’s nearest audial, murmuring “sorry” against the sensitive metal.

Blurr laughs, amusement filtering into his field. “You don’t sound contrite at all.” He wriggles back against Starscream, end of the stylus tap-tapping on the screen.

“Mmm. Because I’m not.” Starscream finds a tasty bit of undefended intake cable and gives it a gentle bite.

Blurr shivers, a low hum rising in his chest. “Why am I not surprised?”

Starscream chuckles and his hands slide a bit southward, toward Blurr’s hips. Blurr groans in his arms, tapping the end of the mauled stylus against the desk.

“Let me help you,” Starscream attempts to coax with nibbles of his denta and quick flicks of his glossa.

Blurr draws in a heavy ventilation and leans harder into Starscream’s embrace. “All the sooner for me to pay you attention, I suppose?”

“That and save the poor, innocent stylus.” Starscream huffs a laugh and nips Blurr’s intake before he leans over, plucking the datapad out of Blurr’s slack grip.

He extricates himself and dances back, out of reach. “Don’t worry, Zippy. I’ll have this done in a blink and then we can both move on to something a lot more exciting.”

He whirls away, wings flicking, tips of his talons working over the datapad screen in lieu of the much mauled stylus. No way does he want to touch that thing. It’s chewed to pieces!

Blurr sighs and spins around in the chair. He leans back, elbow braced on the desk behind him, a smile on his lips.

“Fine,” he says and flicks a hand at Starscream. “Do my work for me then. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Starscream snorts and calculates faster.

He’s the brains of this operation after all. Everyone knows that by now.

***


	3. Little Surprises

Fatigue claws at Starscream from top to bottom. He’s been working since before “sunrise” this morning, and it’s long past “sundown.” Meeting after meeting with no break in between. Argument after argument, petty disagreements, everything that no ruler wants to deal with in a single day.

His tanks grumble. He’s starving. All he’s managed to do is scarf down a mil-rat while power-walking from one meeting room to the next. The concentrated, solid energon sits like a weight in his tank, giving him little bursts of energy, but no satisfaction.

And he’s got a couple hours more to go at least.

So much for getting home to snuggle with his racer in a timely fashion. It’s even one of Blurr’s early days, but does Starscream get to spend it with his partner? Of course not. Instead, he has to watch Prowl and Soundwave squabble and give each other the stink optic while Bumblebee sighs and Needlenose proves to be no help at all.

Starscream trudges into his office, hoping for a moment’s peace before the next round of madness begins. The door shuts behind him and he sags against it, ex-venting with relief. His audials are still ringing from the stupidity.

Another vent and Starscream pushes himself off the door, attention focused on his desk and the groaning piles of paperwork. He pauses, however, at the glittery wrapped box in the middle of his datapads. That wasn’t there when he left earlier today.

Starscream circles around the box, optics narrowed, more than a little suspicious. A distance scan reveals no incendiary materials. There’s a tag hanging from the lop-sided bow, and he recognizes the handwriting immediately. Relief floods through him.

Blurr. That charming idiot.

Starscream huffs a laugh and pulls off the tag and attached card, flipping it open.

_Knew you’d be working late today. Try not to eat them all, Starshine. You still need to be able to fly home to me. ;)_

It’s the winking emoji that does it for Starscream. He sinks into his chair with a snorting laugh while his free hand tears away the glittery paper, revealing the double-stack box of Mixmaster’s specially flavored candies.

His tanks grumble again.

Starscream tucks the little note into his subspace and leans back into his carefully designed chair. He props his feet up on the desk and pulls the box of candies into his lap. The first one he pops into his mouth is sweet and fizzes over his glossa.

Starscream hums with delight and offlines his optics to better enjoy the flavor.

The day is not so shitty after all, he thinks. He’s got a sexy racer waiting for him at home, one thoughtful enough to send along Starscream’s favorite treats just because.

Actually.

It’s a pretty damn good day.


End file.
